Dog Eat Dog
by Hawki
Summary: DCEU Oneshot: It's a dog eat dog world, and few cities encapsulate this better than Gotham. So in that sense, are you really surprised that a girl like Harley Quinn can get a hyena as a pet?


_A/N_

_So the trailer for _Birds of Prey _released. And is it just me, or is a film called "Birds of Prey" giving inordinate attention to just Harley, even if she is the main character in it?_

_Anyway, drabbled this up._

* * *

**Dog Eat Dog**

Dinah Lance knew it was a dog eat dog world, but she hadn't expected things to get to this point.

Then again, what had she expected, she wondered? When you grew up in Gotham City, you were given a few expectations in life – your life would be bad. Crime and corruption would remain. Batman would always be there to try and alleviate those first two symptoms, even if the causes remained untreatable. Well, turned out that Batman was no longer in town, which meant that crime and corruption had increased, and ergo, lives were even worse. Also aliens, sea-people, and metahumans were a thing. Because of course they were. Yay. That she was a metahuman herself and had the ability to scream like a banshee didn't count for much when people were screaming every night, including the joint at which she sang.

But this? This was a whole new level of insanity. Standing here alongside a crazy woman and a girl who'd likely be dead within the week, Dinah Lance, a.k.a. the Black Canary, a.k.a. the sanest person in this storeroom (God, that was depressing), she looked on as the third member of the Birds of Prey knelt down, rubbing the cheeks of her pet. Her dog-like pet.

"Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?"

Her _hyena _pet. Dinah looked at Cassandra, who didn't appear overly fazed with the fact that they were in the company of the Joker's former number one sidekick (not to be confused with Bob, whose name would never be forgotten in Gotham). She looked at Helena, who was looking awkward, but trying her best not to show it. Rich Girl Syndrome, Dinah supposed. Just because you spent your nights on a bike firing crossbow bolts into criminals didn't change the fact that you came from the lap of luxury.

"Who's a good boy?" Harley Quinn asked, still rubbing the cheeks of her pet hyena.

Dinah looked at Helena. "You could just shoot her," she murmured. "No-one would have to know."

Helena gave Dinah a strange look. "You want me to shoot her?"

Dinah looked back at Harley, who was now opening and closing her jaw, and her pet dog was doing the same. "Thought had crossed my mind."

"You can't shoot her," Cassandra said. "We need her."

Dinah scoffed. "Kid, if we want to take down Black Mask, all we need is you." She gave her a funny look. "Or rather the data drive you swallowed."

"It's called a USB stick," Helena murmured.

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn." Dinah looked back at Harley. From what little she'd managed to get out of the psychopath, she was no longer with "Mister J," and was trying to re-evaluate where she'd gone wrong in life. Dinah had a few ideas as to when and how that might have happened, but while not a psychologist, she was going to go out on a limb and guess that the therapeutic effects of pets didn't extend to bloody hyenas. Also that most psychologists would write Harley Quinn off as a lost cause and have her sent to Arkham.

_Certainly know where I could send you, _Dinah reflected. She watched Harley take out a long red lolly and put it in her mouth. To her amazement, the hyena took it in its own and began to suck as well.

"Aw," Cassandra said. "It's like that film."

Dinah grunted. "_Lady and the Tramp_?"

"Excuse me?" Helena asked.

"_Lady and the Tramp,_" Dinah said. "It's totally _Lady and the Tramp_."

"Are you sure? I'm pretty sure I-"

Dinah reached into Cassandra's pocket, picked out a phone ("oi!" Cassandra yelled) and tossed it to Helena. "Look it up."

Harley had finished the lolly, but Dinah suspected that the hyena had got some of it. Regardless, the Joker's former Number One got to her feet and walked over to the other girls, the hyena following the bitch like the obedient bitch it was. Or bastard. Dinah couldn't tell what plumbing it had, and she didn't care to find out. Nor did she care to sample the feel of the baseball bat Harley was carrying.

"Right girls," she said. "This is my little friend. He's going to help us deal with the mean weirdos that are after us."

Dinah smirked. "Got a name?"

"Is it Fido?" Cassandra asked.

"No, silly," said Harley. "It's Puddin."

The hyena let out a yip.

"Puddin," Dinah murmured. "Yep. You're really over your Mister J, aren't ya?"

When Harley screamed, slammed Dinah against a wall and put a gun to her head, it happened quickly.

"Somethin' you wanna say?" Harley whispered.

There was, but Dinah decided not to.

"Think a girl can't cut it on her own? Think I ain't over my man? You think I ain't over that fucking clown?"

_No, _Dinah reflected, but she gave Harley a smile. "Oh girl, you got this. Totally over Mister J."

Harley didn't look convinced, and Dinah began to wonder if she might pull the trigger.

"I mean, come on," Dinah said. "You were in the Suicide Squad, and you've killed more people in the past twenty-four hours than that clown did his whole career. Why, only a matter of time before he starts begging you to come back."

Harley nodded. "Yeah. Yeah! Mister J, he didn't know what he had."

_Um, yeah, he did_.

Harley withdrew the pistol and began whispering to her hyena. To her Puddin. Cassandra looked terrified. Helena looked aggravated, before she passed the phone back to the young girl they had in their care.

"So?" Dinah asked. "What was it?"

"Never mind."

Harley got back to her feet – in her right hand was a baseball bat. In her left was a leash that she'd attached to Puddin's collar. In her belt were pistols, magazines, knives, and some nylon. Basically a walking arsenal of crazy, with extra ammunition of insane and high-grade sociopathic rounds.

"Right girls," Harley said. "I've been talking to Puddin…"

"Oh Jesus Christ," Helena sighed, putting her eyes into her palm.

"…and we're in agreement. It's a dog eat dog world out there, and we've got a little birdy (she nodded at Cassandra) who needs protectin.' So, way I see it, we gonna fight, we gonna have fun, and we're gonna do it as a team. And if anyone gets in our way, Puddin can rip their fucking balls off!"

Puddin let out another yip.

"Who's with me?" She put out her palm and Helena and Dinah looked at each other. Dinah didn't know what Helena was thinking, but if she was thinking the same things she was, it was that this could go very bad, very quickly. Because on one hand, Cassandra had the means to take Black Mask down. On the other, they were outnumbered, outgunned, and one of their number was insane. Or, more insane than they were. Gotham City had a thing about creating insane people, whether it be men who dressed like clowns, men who dressed like bats, or women who dressed like…whatever the hell Harley was meant to be.

"Well?" Harley asked.

Dinah sighed and put her hand on Harley's. Helena, barely able to contain her look of disgust, gingerly put her hand there as well. Then did Cassandra.

Harley let out a cheer and threw the hands up. Dinah felt the sudden and pressing need to wash hers.

"Knew ya wouldn't let me down," Harley said. "Now then. Who wants to bash some heads in?"

Given it was at this point that an explosion rocked the room and Black Mask's goons began pouring in, Dinah supposed she didn't have much choice in the matter.


End file.
